"Atticus O'Sullivan ceased to be mortal long ago." Long before she or her parents or her parents' parents had been born. And compared to the rest of the ordinary humanity around her, that was saying quite a bit.

And yet, as much as she only tolerated his presence, short of his apprentice, he was perhaps the closest thing she had to a friend outside her circle. Granuaile was much more agreeable, but Atticus had, at least, always kept his promises with her. He may behave like a child, but his word was good, and there wasn't enough of that lately.

"Damn. He wouldn't be, either. Was he ever actually here?"